CHAPTER V. THE PROGRESS OF THE PLANTAGENET.
A few words suffice to explain the formidable arrival we have justannounced. Though the Duke of Burgundy had by public proclamationforbidden his subjects to aid the exiled Edward, yet, whether movedby the entreaties of his wife, or wearied by the remonstrances of hisbrother-in-law, he at length privately gave the dethroned monarch fiftythousand florins to find troops for himself, and secretly hired Flemishand Dutch vessels to convey him to England. [Comines, Hall, Lingard, S.Turner] But so small was the force to which the bold Edward trusted hisfortunes, that it almost seemed as if Burgundy sent him forth to hisdestruction. He sailed from the coast of Zealand; the winds, if lessunmanageable than those that blew off the seaport where Margaret and herarmament awaited a favouring breeze, were still adverse. Scared from thecoast of Norfolk by the vigilance of Warwick and Oxford, who had filledthat district with armed men, storm and tempest drove him at last toHumber Head, where we have seen him land, and whence we pursue hissteps.
The little band set out upon its march, and halted for the night at asmall village two miles inland. Some of the men were then sent out onhorseback for news of the other vessels, that bore the remnant of theinvading force. These had, fortunately, effected a landing in variousplaces; and, before daybreak, Anthony Woodville, and the rest of thetroops, had joined the leader of an enterprise that seemed but therashness of despair, for its utmost force, including the few sailorsallured to the adventurer's standard, was about two thousand men.[Fifteen hundred, according to the Croyland historian.] Close andanxious was the consultation then held. Each of the several detachmentsreported alike of the sullen indifference of the population, whicheach had sought to excite in favour of Edward. Light riders [Hall]were despatched in various directions, still further to sound theneighbourhood. All returned ere noon, some bruised and maltreated by thestones and staves of the rustics, and not a voice had been heard to echothe cry, "Long live King Edward!" The profound sagacity of Gloucester'sguileful counsel was then unanimously recognized. Richard despatched asecret letter to Clarence; and it was resolved immediately to proceedto York, and to publish everywhere along the road that the fugitive hadreturned but to claim his private heritage, and remonstrate with theparliament which had awarded the duchy of York to Clarence, his youngerbrother.
"Such a power," saith the Chronicle, "hath justice ever among men, thatall, moved by mercy or compassion, began either to favour or notto resist him." And so, wearing the Lancastrian Prince of Wales'scognizance of the ostrich feather, crying out as they marched, "Longlive King Henry!" the hardy liars, four days after their debarkation,arrived at the gates of York.
Here, not till after much delay and negotiation, Edward was admittedonly as Duke of York, and upon condition that he would swear to be afaithful and loyal servant to King Henry; and at the gate by which hewas to enter, Edward actually took that oath, "a priest being by tosay Mass in the Mass tyme, receiving the body of our blessed Saviour!"[Hall.]
Edward tarried not long in York; he pushed forward. Two great noblesguarded those districts,--Montagu and the Earl of Northumberland, towhom Edward had restored his lands and titles, and who, on condition ofretaining them, had re-entered the service of Lancaster. This last, atrue server of the times, who had sided with all parties, now judged itdiscreet to remain neutral. [This is the most favourable interpretationof his conduct: according to some he was in correspondence with Edward,who showed his letters.] But Edward must pass within a few miles ofPontefract castle, where Montagu lay with a force that could destroy himat a blow. Edward was prepared for the assault, but trusted to deceivethe marquis, as he had deceived the citizens of York,--the more for thestrong personal love Montagu had ever shown him. If not, he was preparedequally to die in the field rather than eat again the bitter bread ofthe exile. But to his inconceivable joy and astonishment, Montagu,like Northumberland, lay idle and supine. Edward and his little troopthreaded safely the formidable pass. Alas! Montagu had that day receiveda formal order from the Duke of Clarence, as co-protector of the realm,[Our historians have puzzled their brains in ingenious conjecturesof the cause of Montagu's fatal supineness at this juncture, and havepassed over the only probable solution of the mystery, which is to befound simply enough stated thus in Stowe's Chronicle: "The MarquessMontacute would have fought with King Edward, but that he had receivedletters from the Duke of Clarence that he should not fight till heecame." This explanation is borne out by the Warkworth Chronicler andothers, who, in an evident mistake of the person addressed, state thatClarence wrote word to Warwick not to fight till he came. Clarence couldnot have written so to Warwick, who, according to all authorities, wasmustering his troops near London, and not in the way to fight Edward;nor could Clarence have had authority to issue such commands to hiscolleague, nor would his colleague have attended to them, since we havethe amplest testimony that Warwick was urging all his captains to attackEdward at once. The duke's order was, therefore, clearly addressed toMontagu.] to suffer Edward to march on, provided his force was small,and he had taken the oaths to Henry, and assumed but the title of Dukeof York,--"for your brother the earl hath had compunctious visitings,and would fain forgive what hath passed, for my father's sake, and uniteall factions by Edward's voluntary abdication of the throne; at allhazards, I am on my way northward, and you will not fight till I come."The marquis,--who knew the conscientious doubts which Warwick hadentertained in his darker hours, who had no right to disobey theco-protector, who knew no reason to suspect Lord Warwick's son-in-law,and who, moreover, was by no means anxious to be, himself, theexecutioner of Edward, whom he had once so truly loved,--though a littlemarvelling at Warwick's softness, yet did not discredit the letter, andthe less regarded the free passage he left to the returned exiles, fromcontempt for the smallness of their numbers, and his persuasion thatif the earl saw fit to alter his counsels, Edward was still more in hispower the farther he advanced amidst a hostile population, and towardsthe armies which the Lords Exeter and Oxford were already mustering.
But that free passage was everything to Edward! It made men think thatMontagu, as well as Northumberland, favoured his enterprise; thatthe hazard was less rash and hopeless than it had seemed; that Edwardcounted upon finding his most powerful allies among those falselysupposed to be his enemies. The popularity Edward had artfully acquiredamongst the captains of Warwick's own troops, on the march to Middleham,now bestead him. Many of them were knights and gentlemen residing in thevery districts through which he passed. They did not join him, but theydid not oppose. Then rapidly flocked to "the Sun of York," first theadventurers and condottieri who in civil war adopt any side for pay;next came the disappointed, the ambitious, and the needy. The hesitatingbegan to resolve, the neutral to take a part. From the state ofpetitioners supplicating a pardon, every league the Yorkists marchedadvanced them to the dignity of assertors of a cause. Doncaster first,then Nottingham, then Leicester,--true to the town spirit we have beforedescribed,--opened their gates to the trader prince.
Oxford and Exeter reached Newark with their force. Edward marched onthem at once. Deceived as to his numbers, they took panic and fled.When once the foe flies, friends ever start up from the very earth!Hereditary partisans--gentlemen, knights, and nobles--now flocked fastround the adventurer. Then came Lovell and Cromwell and D'Eyncourt, evertrue to York; and Stanley, never true to any cause. Then came the braveknights Parr and Norris and De Burgh; and no less than three thousandretainers belonging to Lord Hastings--the new man--obeyed the summons ofhis couriers and joined their chief at Leicester.
Edward of March, who had landed at Ravenspur with a handful of brigands,now saw a king's army under his banner. [The perplexity and confusionwhich involve the annals of this period may be guessed by this,--thattwo historians, eminent for research (Lingard and Sharon Turner), differso widely as to the numbers who had now joined Edward, that Lingardasserts that at Nottingham he was at the head of fifty or sixty thousandmen; and Turner gives him, at the most, between six and seven th
ousand.The latter seems nearer to the truth. We must here regret that Turner'spartiality to the House of York induces him to slur over Edward'sdetestable perjury at York, and to accumulate all rhetorical arts tocommand admiration for his progress,--to the prejudice of the salutarymoral horror we ought to feel for the atrocious perfidy and violationof oath to which he owed the first impunity that secured the aftertriumph.] Then the audacious perjurer threw away the mask; then, forthwent--not the prayer of the attainted Duke of York--but the proclamationof the indignant king. England now beheld two sovereigns, equal in theirarmies. It was no longer a rebellion to be crushed; it was a dynasty tobe decided.